I listen. I write. Read if you like. Share if you must.

BESIDES HIMSELF, WE ARE God’s only audio visual here on earth. Some people have a hard time receiving a gift. Especially, some men. It’s hard sometimes to see that the gift being handed to you, from another person, is actually a gift from God. We are His delivery system. Maybe we have a hard time…

BOB DYLAN ONCE WROTE A MASTERPIECE called ‘Desolation Row.’ In that song Dylan writes of ‘ a blind commissioner tied to a tightrope walker, of a moaning Romeo, Cain, and Able, The Good Samaritan, The Hunch Back of Notre Dame, Einstein disguised as Robin Hood, the Phantom of the Opera, a spoon fed Casanova, complete…

“Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.” Resignation is dreadful, Sucking the breath trapped in lungs that are barely Hidden in a concaved chest cavity; Pulled through a choking windpipe Then seeping past freshly departed lips. Smell, the death of desire… Which is soon followed by…

“The heavens are telling of the glory of God; And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.” The evening clouds cut into the sky outlining above, a lost forgotten cove. Strewn with sunken masts of sailing ships and, plunder swallowed under. An alabaster moon full and spilling, illuminating, swimming below the water. The…

“Worship the Lord with reverence and rejoice with trembling.” Ridge line trees almost barren. Still, a few leaves cling to a vestige of hope. Silhouetted on the rise against the clear blue sky on a warm November day. Thanksgiving. We move through the seasons. We traverse the face. At breakneck speed around an axis we…

“It is the glory of God to conceal a matter, But the glory of Kings is to search out a matter.” I wait. As the sun circuits the sky, I wait. As the moon follows close behind, I wait. Day after day, night upon night, I wait. For Your voice, for Your hand, for the…

I always find writing, in the end, to be my favorite medium of communication. Writing slows us down momentarily long enough to think, and question what it is we truly want to say. Consequently when writing through the process we discover who we are, or at the least, reminders of who we have been. These…

Loyalty wanes in the shadow of compromise When the sun begins to set and the day is tired. Where peace seems far off and every thing else Is immediately in your face. Visions of ‘Gauguin’s Escape’ tease at my own lust. Art is such an over abused excuse for selfishness. “Don’t you understand?” We cry!…

On a translucent highway the immigrant sings a song Though slightly off key, An opus none-the-less. A song ancient to his heart, An old folk song of yesteryear, Years he leaves behind yet still recalls. Not for fond remembrance, But for the melody within which propels him onward to that which is beyond himself. Beyond…

As I sit on my front porch, the end of the evening, with the weather warm for the first part of autumn, I’m still thinking of a movie I watched tonight starring Elijah Wood. A talented young actor with life in his eyes that is evident beyond the craft of his gift. It is light….

At first, it tastes like mouthwash. It gets easier after that. Voice and jukebox begin to fade. Amazing clarity soon follows. Only hearing, what you want to hear. Only seeing, what you want to see. Believing what you want to believe.

I need not hear tale, for I witnessed with my own eyes. Days of when we would stop. We would pullover to the side of the road. Out of respect, for the dead, when funeral processions would pass by. We would slow down, when passing through school crossing zones. We would give heed, to ambulance…